News
by Debster's Dictionary
Summary: Wilson gets a letter. House gets antsy. HouseWilson fluff. yay!


News

Wilson trudged into House's office that morning with an even less coherent step than his friends. The footfalls were stilted and uneven, suggesting that either large amounts of alcohol had been consumed, or some blast of horrible news had unbalanced the man. With Wilson, House thought, it was probably the former. Horrible news did not tend to make him disengage enough to not walk properly. It was with shock, then that Dr. Gregory House looked up and beheld his friend, stone sober, approaching the desk.

"You look like hell," he said, the epitome of the caring and comforting man.

"Yeah well, you would too under the circumstances."

House waited for elaboration, but none came as James Wilson seated himself on the other side of the desk, just gripping the armrests and looking resigned.

"Well? Are you going to tell me or do I have to beat it out of you? After all, it's not like I keep this thing just for the looks."

House tried to wave his cane in menace, but failed when he saw Wilson barely even flicker with recognition. James sighed and let his chin fall forward a bit before stating:

"Julie filed for divorce this morning."

"But that's no surprise. You haven't spoken in three months, and she keeps leaving tacks in your shoes in the morning. Plus, I didn't see you this distraught over your last divorce, and that one was messy."

"She's also one month pregnant."

So that explained the dour look and shuffling gait. His wife had clearly been engaging in some extra-curricular activities. Failing any ideas of what a caring, compassionate person would do in such a situation, Greg House said the one thing that popped into his head.

"I told you so."

Wilson got up, obviously not expecting House to be quite so blunt.

"Look, if you're going to be an ass about it, then I guess I'll see you later. Besides, I'm sure that even Cuddy could come up with a better retort than that."

Wilson started to turn toward the door, but House acted quickly, hooking the handle of his cane into the waistband of James' pants and holding on for dear life.

"Hey, I'll be good now. I'll be as serious as you want me to be. So, as serious Gregory House, MD, I suggest that we toast your well-earned freedom with some champagne."

Wilson sat back down, mollified somewhat.

"You have champagne in your desk?"

"Of course. Besides, it's not like I could keep Scotch in here. One of the nurses might find it, and then Cuddy would have no recourse but to declare me a drunkard and have me carted away."

House delved into his desk and withdrew a bottle of champagne from one drawer, and two flutes from another. Wilson just shook his head in awe.

"You'd think that after fifteen years I would expect this, but nope. No, you always have surprises."

House filled the glasses and they raised them high.

"To Julie and her little stranger. May the milkman find child support easy to pay."

Wilson gave a lopsided smile and drank deeply, as if trying to give the flute CPR. House just toyed with his glass.

"Well, as fun as that was, I actually have to go check on a patient now," said Wilson.

He rose, and as he straightened, House looked up from his glass to see him off. They bumped together, but rather than ending up with identical bruises and slight headaches, it was a gentle bump. A bump on the lips.

Both men pulled back in shock, but Wilson was the first to smile. He looked at House silently, as if to challenge him. House just looked back, raising an eyebrow to acknowledge. They leaned in again, although this time with purpose. House kept his death grip on the edge of the table so that he did not fall into his friend. Wilson lifted his hand and snaked it around House's waist a bit, partially to give support and partially just for the sensation.

Their lips met and their eyes closed. The chaste kiss deepened a little, although not enough to cause any passersby to notice. They both reveled in the expression of subtext as text, only parting when it seemed that any longer would cause slight asphyxiation.

Wilson pulled back, standing fully straight again, but now, with a smile. He winked at House.

"I think we might want to toast my divorce again later. Your place?"

House just nodded as Wilson pranced out. All House could think was, "How the hell am I going to pay child support?"


End file.
